Simon lets out an exasperated sigh, peering down at you. You’re nestled right up against his chest, pinning him between you and the wall, no space between your bodies.

“Come on love, can you move over a little bit? I’ve got no room, I’m up against the wall…” His eyes slip closed and he stretches out in relief when you move away.

“Thank you Jesus,” he mutters. He’s about to drape an arm over you again when he realizes you’ve left the bed completely—pouting on the floor now. He can’t help but start chuckling as he sits up, shaking his head at you.

“Come on now.”